Pieces
by Ziven
Summary: When tragedy befalls us, we only remember in pieces. What was most important? Who is to be remembered? Those who save the day, or those in peril? When our hearts are stretched to the limit, what is it that keeps us going? What stops it from shattering?
1. Chapter 1

**Pieces**

**Chapter 1:**

When Kyouya arrived, there were no words. He emerged from his family's limo, sunglasses covering his brown eyes. Holding out his hand to the door of the vehicle, a delicate tanned hand grasped his own, and with a light tug he aided the woman from the car. The woman followed behind him, dressed in black for the occasion. Although he had been gone for a long time, and although it was no longer called for, Kyouya wore his old Ouran uniform. It was necessary, he knew, and he said nothing as he approached the school.

Little Haninozuka, and tall Morinozuka met him as they he and his escort crossed the courtyard. Both were wearing their own uniforms, just as he had expected. Honey and Mori both glanced at the woman who trailed behind him, and they said nothing. It was not the time. Kyouya reached back to the woman without looking, and he felt her grasp his hand more tightly. His pinky finger felt the cold metal of the ring on one of her fingers.

The small group continued to travel silently, heading into the school via a route most familiar. Despite being a week day, the school was empty and barren—without having to ask, Kyouy knew that the school had been closed. He didn't bother looking through the halls as they went. Before he had realized that they had arrived at their destination, Honey and Mori had stopped, and the latter took two long steps to open the double doors of the Third Music Room.

There were no roses here, no costumes, no tea; in this room was only a single couch, where Tamaki sat, looking stricken. He was the only person, aside from the woman behind Kyouya, who was not in Ouran's school uniform. Hikaru and Kaoru were standing, leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the door.

Tamaki's eyes were bloodshot, and he was dabbing at them with a kerchief. He didn't seem to notice anyone who had entered the room. However, there needed to be words, and Kyouya was not afraid of speaking. "The school has been closed for this occasion," he said. "For how long?" Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulled his hand away from the woman with him and she continued to stand behind him, tall and proud. He unsheathed his notebook, next removing his standard pen from his inside pocket.

"A week," Kaoru said from the other side of the room. "The message was delivered yesterday and the children were sent home."

"And the administration allowed this?"

HIkaru answered this time. "It isn't as though they're unaware of who it was. It isn't often that a staff member kicks the bucket. As you can see, Tamaki…"

For the first time since everyone had gathered, Tamaki himself, dressed in a white suit and looking very much like his own father, looked around the room. "He-hel-lo…" he said, voice broken.

Kyouya nodded in Tamaki's direction. "We are here. I am taking care of the arrangements. I am moving back to the main Ohtori household until things are finished. Tamaki, is there anything that you need right now?"

Tamaki's eyes scanned the room again, and he blew his nose. "You," he croaked.

"We are here," Kyouya repeated.

* * *

Small snippets of a story that I'm putting up. I had been toying around with this idea in my head for a little while now, concept inspired by the wonderfully talented Samurai-ashes, whom I love and adore with all my heart.

News: I've just finished playing Phoenix Wright: Trials and Tribulations, so expect some PW fanfiction sometime soon. I think I'm getting back into my smutty phase, so let's hope that we have some more upbeat/sexy fanfiction sometime soon as well~!

"I shall return, for I am the darkness..."

~darkdragonwriter


	2. Chapter 2

**Pieces**

**Chapter 2:**

Honey wasn't sure how to approach Tamaki about this. He couldn't get the words out of his mouth to say. Aside from Kyouya, they were all staying in Tamaki's home. He had insisted. The Suoh home was empty, he had said. "It was empty now." Honey was glad that he had agreed. The news reporters were bothering him now. Unceasingly, they rapped on the door, asking how the school would function, asking if Tamaki was going to step down from his position. Hikaru and Kaoru were good at keeping them away. They had no qualms against being rude. It was no different, seeing them this way when Honey knew that they cuddled each other in the night, crying. But he had no right to speak of such things; he did the same with Mori when he retired to bed.

Tamaki had yet to notice that they were in the same room. "I'm sorry," Honey said, and tears filled his eyes without warning. He sniffed. "I wish that I could have done something."

The whole house was quiet now. No boasting father spinning tales of Tamaki's mother—no maids, no help; the estate was dismissed for the week.

"I don't have anything left," Tamaki said. He seemed to have ignored Honey's statement. "…have the press gone away yet?"

"For today," Honey answered. He wished that there was something that he could do. Cake and stuffed animals couldn't make this better.

Tamaki held his head in his hands, his nails visibly racking his scalp. "They'll be back tomorrow."

"And that's not true," Honey replied, ignoring Tamaki's most recent statement. "You have her."

Tamaki simply shook his head.

* * *

Who are they talking about? Who is Honey addressing at the end?

It'll all become clear in….five more chapters? XD

Don't worry, though ^_^ They're already written out and stuffs. They'll be up later today~!


	3. Chapter 3

**Pieces**

**Chapter 3:**

This is my wife. Her name is Kimika." Kyouya's voice echoed through the Third Music Room. The tanned woman who had remained with Kyouya the last two days curtsied just so, long black hair falling across her face and spilling onto her matching dress.

"I am sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances," she said, her American accent showing in otherwise perfectly structured Japanese. Nothing less from the Ohtori family, Kaoru thought. He wondered vaguely if their marriage had been arranged. Kaoru had no reason to dislike her, but his frown didn't leave his face. She was dressed in black, like she had been a few days ago. It wasn't the time for black yet; it was time to console Tamaki.

The blonde's eyes themselves kept drifting to the woman's clothing.

Kyouya spoke again. "As I said Tuesday I have taken care of all of the arrangements. The funeral will be Friday. Saturday, we shall have the will read. There will be time on Sunday to accomplish whatever is necessary for the school to open up again on Monday. Hikaru and Kaoru will oversee the students moving back in on Sunday. I have called Renge and she will be assisting Kimika in dealing with issues among the female students if necessary. She said that she would be delighted to help in any way possible." Tamaki looked as though he hadn't heard a single word. His eyes rested on Kimika's black dress. Indeed, it was the darkest thing in the room. The Third Music Room just wasn't made for such stark clothing. It was too soon for black. "Although," Kyouya added, "I do have a question for you, Tamaki." Tamaki's eyes fluttered over to Kyouya, and he nodded, slowly. "Forgive my account of ignorance, but…how exactly…" for once, Kyouya seemed to not be able to bring himself to ask the full question. The fact that hadn't finished the sentence almost made Kaoru smile. It was rare that Kyouya was moved into being considerate of others. But now was not the time for smiling. All eyes were on Tamaki. "I am aware," Kyouya spoke yet again, "but in her haste my secretary did not explain the full story. I have no details on the matter at all."

"I…" Tamaki began. His voice sounded scratchy. He had been crying again. The blonde's eyes drifted once again to Kimika's dress. And something changed in him that time. Kaoru saw it. Tamaki's brows knitted, and he quickly jumped to his feet. But before he could open his mouth, Mori rushed foreward, cold eyes boring into Kyouya. Tamaki's volume rose quickly as he loudly said, "I--!!"

"Please," Mori said. Honey made his way to Tamaki and set him back down on the solitary couch. Kaoru couldn't hear what Honey was saying, but it seemed to put out whatever minute rage had risen in Tamaki. Kaoru shook his head. Kyouya turned to his wife and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and scurried off. Kaoru sighed. Kyouys should have known to caution her against wearing that.

"Tamaki-sama," Honey said quietly.

"I…I…" Tamaki frowned. "I am sorry," he said to Kyouya. And Tamaki said nothing more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Pieces**

**Chapter 4:**

"Kyouya," Mori said. The two were alone now; after the meeting everyone had seen Tamaki home, and Kyouya had lingered behind in the Suoh den. Kimika, Kyouya's wife, was seated in a corner of the room, now outfitted in the female uniform for Ouran. The yellow contrasted against her dark skin, and although he said nothing about Mori thought it looked horrible.

"Yes, Mori?" Kyouya answered. They were seated in the den of the center wing of the home, in chairs before a fireplace. A portrait above the fireplace held an image of Tamaki's mother.

"I will tell you," Mori said quietly, the flames crackling in a serene support to his words. He did not speak often, but these words were very important. "Remained late after school that day, driving home—a—" he paused trying to fight through emotion so that he would make sense. "Collision. Head on. Tamaki…gone earlier for an emergency." He took a deep breath to settle himself. Most often, Mori spoke fewer words because—with words, more were meaningless. But this time…he was speaking fewer because it _hurt._ Almost physically, it hurt to speak about this. Kyouya waited patiently for him to resume. "We were called to the hospital. We—we watched her…but she did not…recover."

Kyouya, as always, held his mask; he did not seem the least bit emotional. Kimika, in a corner, was hunched over, wiping her eyes. Mori pretended not to see—had Kimika even seen her husband cry? "I have a question," Kyouya said slowly, voice careful—too careful for someone who seemed unaffected by Mori's story. But the taller man knew better. "What emergency…?" The question was left open, because it wasn't necessary to finish it.

Mori sighed. "For _her_. She was ill and Tamaki was…to leave early to nurse her."

Kyouya nodded. "If there had been any other reason, Mori—I would blame Tamaki for this, forever."

"I know."

"I would never forgive him."

Mori nodded his approval. "…neither would we."


	5. Chapter 5

**Pieces**

**Chapter 5:**

Tamaki had been out of the manor all day. He had needed time to cope with a few things. Understandable. Hikaru himself was finding it difficult to cope. Nothing made sense to him anymore. No one wanted to speak or be in the same room together if they could help it. There was only one day before the service and no one knew what to do. Everything was useless. So bloody useless.

"Hikaru," came Kaoru's voice, wafting over Hikaru's ears like water. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking," was Hikaru's answer.

"Mourning," was his brother's correction.

"Reflecting." Hikaru compromised. He didn't want to admit what was going on in his head.

Kaoru paused. They could have turned this conversation into a game, but Hikaru knew that Kaoru wouldn't. Now was not the time for games.

"You're worried about Tamaki," Kaoru asked. Hikaru nodded. "Or are you worried about _her_?"

"Which one?" Hikaru asked. "…we know that Haruhi…she's gone to a better place."

"Then it's obvious who I'm talking about."

"…is it a crime to be worried? She's all that Tamaki has now."

"Tamaki has _us_."

"…this isn't something that we can fix, Kaoru!"

"But we can make things easier."

"Can we, Kaoru? Can we?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Pieces**

**Chapter 6:**

Kimika wasn't sure what to think as she stood by Kyouya during the procession. The funeral itself had been very depressing; quite a number of people had attended—Haruhi had made a very strong impression on many people. Kimika herself had wanted to meet her—she was all Kyouya spoke about when recounting his school days. When Kyouya had proposed to her, she had told her very honestly,

"My first love, as you know, will always be Haruhi."

But Kimika did love him, and Kyouya had made it very clear that his only intention was to be honest about his feelings. His love for Haruhi did not detract from his feelings for her. Despite what he felt for Haruhi, Kimika had heard about his adventures at Ouran High School, and she knew how much of an impression she had made on Kyouya and everyone else. She had honestly looked forward to meeting such an extraordinary woman. And now she never would.

She had apologized for the incident with the dress. It had been thoughtless, a mistake that made her unworthy of standing at Kyouya's side. He was flawless, perfect; he deserved the same from his wife. She had donned the school uniform without question. But now, at the funeral, she wore black.

The family hour, which she had been permitted to along with the Host Club family and Kyouya—it had been unbearable. Haruhi's still body looked so…surreal, in the same way that most bodies at funerals did. Kimika had been to her fair share. Although she had not known Haruhi personally, she found herself shedding tears at the casket. Kimika could feel the pain that Haruhi's passing brought upon everyone there, and knowing that Kyouya shared that pain made her susceptible to the news as well. Kyouya himself did not shed tears, standing there with his arm wrapped around her. Kimika knew why: he had cried when he had first gotten the news—and for much longer, almost until the very day they had arrived at Ouran. Kimika had cared for him, been strong for him, and now she would cry the tears that he could not.

The saddest thing to watch was Tamaki and the small girl. Tamaki wept over the casket, crying out Haruhi's name and trying to clutch at her lifeless body. Kyouya and Mori had to pull him away; Honey took care of seating the girl, who seemed very much unaware of what was happening. Kimika wept into her kerchief.

"The deceased leaves behind," the priest had said, "her husband, Suoh Tamaki, and her daughter, Suoh Rin." If Tamaki hadn't gone to take care of his sick daughter, he could have been gone, too.

Tamaki's crying echoed throughout the hall during the entire service. It was Haruhi's father, Kimika was told later, who gave the eulogy. He was a very handsome man, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, his suit just as neat as those attending from the Host Club group. Later, much later, Kimika would hear that Haruhi's father was a cross dresser, and she would not believe a word of it. Kimika glanced at all of the attendees—schoolmates from middle and high school, a large group of women from the Lobelia Women's Academy…too many people. She had never seen a funeral this large before.

After the service, Tamaki was still unfit to be a pallbearer. Kimika wanted to say something poignant, something special, something considerate and meaningful. She could think of nothing adequate when she gazed into Tamaki's swollen eyes. He fell apart even more badly during the burial.


	7. Chapter 7

**Pieces**

**Chapter 6:**

Renge hadn't been expecting to attend the reading of Haruhi's will, but she had been invited by Tamaki after the funeral, and she could not say no to him, nor the small Rin at his side. Her blonde hair matched Tamaki's almost exactly, her eyes brown like Haruhi's—chocolate. Poor thing didn't understand what was going on.

"I don't know quite why I'm writing this," Haruhi's lawyer read in a voice that was way too monotonous to express anything the wonderful Haruhi could possibly have to say.

"Give me that thing," Renge said, spitefully, snatching the paper roughly from the callous man behind the desk. "You know nothing about Haruhi. Let me read it, you loathsome creature." Clearing her throat, she looked each and every one of the Host Club members in the eye. If they were going to do this for Haruhi, they would do it correctly.

"I don't know quite why I'm writing this, but I read in a periodical last week an inspirational poem that made me think about my plans for the future. I have a wonderful life with Tamaki, and a wonderful daughter—I'm very sure that if this is being read I'll have lived to be over fifty."

Tamaki sniffed. Renge rubbed his back soothingly, glancing over at the woman who had been introduced to her as Kimika, standing behind where Kyouya was sitting. Renge didn't like her. Maybe the timing of their meeting was off, maybe Renge was just angry about having Haruhi taken away from her, but something about her was just not quite right.

"I have already set aside a full college fund for Rin. I doubt that there is a single college that it couldn't pay for. Tamaki is aware of this. And therefore, I donate fifty percent of my net worth to Ouran High school. I was its Headmistress and that seems very much appropriate to me. The other half is hereby donated in equal portions to my husband, Tamaki; Honey, Mori, Hikaru, Kaoru, Kyouya, and Nekozawa-senpai. I have not spoken to Nekozawa for quite some time, but I keep him in my thoughts and I'm sure I'm in his. I advise all of you to use this for whatever it is you feel that you deserve in life at this point. You've made wonderful differences in my life—I want you to feel I've done the same for you.

"Just in case I haven't lived out the fifty years stated above, or if something's happened to me, I want to leave messages for the following people on this present day.

"Tamaki—my wonderful Tamaki. I love you. I have always loved you and I assure you I do even in the afterlife. Stop crying about me. I know that you are. There are probably others who are upset about this, too. Take care of them. Take care of Rin. Don't change the furniture to all black to match your mood. Turn the lights back on, and sleep in your bed and not the couch or the floor. You'll be fine, darling. I promise.

"Rin—I'm sorry that you're losing me. I have never gotten over losing my mother, and I can only hope that my death wasn't sudden. In the off-chance that it was, I love you, and I'm sorry about whatever I might miss in the future. I promise that I didn't leave you on purpose. Please, do what you want in life. Don't follow anyone else's standards. Don't let your father bully you into going to Ouran. You don't have to. And should you eventually have a step-mother, try to be nice to her if she is a good person. Everyone deserves a chance. The Host Club taught me that, and it's the most important lesson I've ever learned."

Tamaki broke down into tears, sobbing loudly, and Renge spoke a bit louder.

"Kyouya—you know how I feel about you. I hope that you will stop caring about your brothers' success. You're much more man than they will ever be. Don't ever forget that. I've seen you smile and I've seen you cry, and it takes a man to do both of those things. You are much stronger than you pretend to be. The mask isn't necessary.

"To everyone else: Although I haven't mentioned you by name, I love you just as much. I have personal belongings I'd like to disperse: My mother's picture and her belongings, I leave to Rin to keep, to remind her of how much I care. If I loved my mother that much, I love her in the same way if not more, and I expect that love in return. To Tamaki, I leave my room in my father's home—and I know that he's kept all of my old things. To Kyouya, I leave an exact replica of the vase I broke when I was at Ouran. I found it a few years ago, and I decided to keep it a surprise. To Hikaru—I leave my childhood bicycle. Tamaki should have it. To Kaoru—I leave to you the knowledge that you'll never figure out how I could tell the two of you apart. You're different. To Honey and Mori—I leave a very special cake for you to share. There are additional instructions in this will to have it ordered and delivered, but I'm mandating that you can't see it. Just know that you'll get it soon, and I promise it'll be the most delicious you've ever tasted. Anything else not specified can be given away to others who want something to remember me by. I'm sorry that I can't detail this more for you all who love me or who will in the future. Thank you for being such wonderful friends. Even the Lobelia girls and Renge—"

Renge's eyes watered as she continued. "Y-you're still more Moe than all of us."

_Oh that I were where I would be!  
Then I would be where I am not;  
But where I am there I must be,  
And where I would be I cannot.

* * *

_

I'm not really sure how I should feel about this now that I've finished it. I'm incredibly sad, but I'm not very certain who I should dedicate it to. I don't really know where the idea for this came from…


End file.
